Day 3, July 17: Blodgett Canyon to Dillon, MT!

Starting Mileage, Day 3: 73,656

We wake up in our semi-illegal campsite, and start packing up. We say goodbye to the Nicest Camp Host, who once again makes sure that we're going to move the car so that the Picnickers have somewhere to park. (Who are these people? The whole area is campsite-only traffic -- do they really need to drive the 100 feet from their campsites to the Picnicking No Overnight Camping Allowed area? Even I find myself to be less lazy than that.) We drive the 20 meters to the trailhead and set off into the canyon to climb the storied Blackfoot Dome, of Homeboy of the Climbing Shop fame.

The first two miles of the hike are lovely, along Blodgett creek, with birds singing and bugs buzzing. We argue about where to cross the creek, and settle on a treacherous log-crossing. (It was very treacherous, no matter what Nat may say about it.) The log is very old and dead and narrow, and the water under it is thunderous and cold. Tash is scared and Nat finds her a long pokey stick with which to prod her way. Tash tries to be brave and cross first but it just aint happening, so she retreats and Nat saves the day and crosses without incident. He drops his pack and returns to scary log for a bit o moral and a bit o physical guidance for Tash. We make it over (TREACHEROUS), and are confronted with unending talus fields, and our climb looming hundreds of feet above us.

We pick and scramble our way up, legs burning and the base of the climb seeming to grow no closer. Bugs are crazy. Honey bees LOVE us but do not sting, no matter how much we flick at them. Halfway up, we stop on a rock so Tash can have a little freakout. We chat about being stressed out from our last week in Portland (packing: it aint fun), Tash's exhaustion etc, and Nat asks that she actually state her opinions rather than just expecting him to perceive them (a novel concept!). We all feel better, but nevertheless decide to take a town rest day tomorrow.


We continue on, and the terrain becomes slick and slabby as we traverse across the steep, granite slope where hill becomes mountain. We try to stick to grass lines and kill as many plants as possible for their friction, though there are few (sorry plants). Nat is wearing sandals, and his feet get all cut up and mud-covered. Halfway through the traverse, Tash hears a crashing and see a brown fuzzy animal run out of the valley toward which we're heading, and up over the next ridge, about 50 yards away (I have no english/metric loyalties. No apologies.). It's a wolf or a small bear or Sasquatch (or a dinosaur?) -- surprisingly hard to tell. Whatever it is, it doesn't return to eat us, and for that we are quite grateful.

Eventually, we make our way to the base of the climb. Tash is pooped. The approach has taken almost four hours (and Homeboy at the climbing shop promised it would be about an hour), over horrible terrain. We take a water break, suit up, and start climbing. Nat climbs up and up as the rope dwindles -- he climbs the ENTIRE length of the rope but manages to sling a boulder and build and anchor RIGHT as the rope ends (literally, it was taut between us!). Tash scrambles to put on her shoes and start up. The climbing, it turns out, is the worst kind of granite friction climbing. NO hands except very occasional smooth bulges, underclings, or, to be honest, trees. Mostly it's just standing up on slabby nothing. There's a nice crack for about six feet, but besides that it is almost completely unprotectable. In the entire rope-length climb, Tash remembers cleaning two pieces of pro... (agh!) Not our favorite, and Tash is fairly panting and terrified the whole way up. Tash is also pretty dehydrated, and not doing well at all! Her muscles all feel like jelly, she can't think clearly, can't catch her breath -- we're only at 5000 feet, but Tash feels like she's on K2. Nat, of course, is doin just fine.

At the first anchor (this is supposed to be a 3-pitch climb), we briefly discuss continuing up before Tash mentions that she has to go down no matter what. The rest of the climb looks steeper and more featured and more fun, but she's really gotta go down, plus it's already 2:30 and we have to make it to Dillon tonight. So Nat honorably sacrifices a few slings and biners and we rappel off some tiny little bush/tree things that surprisingly hold our weight. We carefully walk/slide down the slab below the climb into the forest (from whence Tash saw the Sasquatch emerge hours before!), inside which we find an actual TRAIL! We lose elevation pretty quickly and efficiently, doing a bit o standing dirt glissade. Also the bees LOVE Tash and want to just hang out on her arms at all times. Not cool, very not cool. We quickly get to about 100 feet above the creek, but with a LOT of horizontal terrain to cross to get to the log. We cross one horrible, awkward talus field, and then find a game trail that leads us through dense-ass thickets of sharp dead trees. Another nearly-endless talus field, and we're finally back at the fabled log! It's taken us just over an hour (way better than the ascent, but dear lord it felt long!).

We cross the log and wander back to the car. Tash is, again/still, not doing well. Her feet and legs ache all to hell, and all she wants to do is dip her head in the creek and drink. Luckily, she avoids doing this, although we are nearly out of water. We do, however, stop to wash our hands and faces with the lovely cool water, which is near-heavenly. We get to the car, and (earlier talk of laziness aside) drive to the water pump by our quasi-campsite. Nat splashes around with the old timey pump and plays on the boulder while Tash sits on a rock and breathes for a while. It's...nice.

When we get moving, we decide we MUST HAVE SUBWAY (sorry, eco-friendly anything...), and find one in Hamilton, MT. Delish sandwiches and we're on our way at 5:00pm.

5:37pm: A gas station, instead of advertising prices, says just "CALL TIM" on its sign.


6:41pm: On Hwy 43. Awesome. A barn says "OK" hugely across its side. Another sign says " _______ 1 Mile." We go FAST, and take pictures of the giant sky.


6:43pm: A town's welcome sign says: "Wisdom, Montana and the Big Hole Valley, Land of 10,000 Haystacks." Nat has to groan at the beauty of the mountains. 61 miles to Dillon and Tash's cowboy hat (Tash is going to buy a cowboy hat!).

6:53pm: Lupin all over the side of the road!

6:54pm: Passed a crazy bearded man in a cowboy hat on a tractor who waved to us. Tash loved him. (Still do.)

8:00pm: Roll into Dillon. We do some motel-shopping, and settle on the Best Western Paradise Inn (it has a pool and free wireless!). We take long showers, which feel Very Important. After that we obviously need ice cream, so we stumble over to the ice cream shop, which turns out to be inside a Subway. It's an all-Subway day for us. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this, but it's how it had to go. We buy some Moose Drool from a gas station, and spend the evening lounging, internetting, watching TV. A real bed feels lovely. Montana, so far, pretty much wins.